World War II vets swap stories at McDonald's

Updated 10:08 am, Saturday, September 22, 2012

Photo: TODD SPOTH

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Willard Pennington, left, John Mawhinney and William Allison, right, swap stories while having lunch at the McDonald's on the corner of Briar Forest and Wilcrest. The friends, ranging in age from 89 to 99, have been meeting as a group for 15 years. less

Willard Pennington, left, John Mawhinney and William Allison, right, swap stories while having lunch at the McDonald's on the corner of Briar Forest and Wilcrest. The friends, ranging in age from 89 to 99, have ... more

Photo: TODD SPOTH

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William Allison, the group's "youngster" at 89, helps Willard Pennington enter the McDonald's for their session, at which the 99-year-old Pennington presides.

William Allison, the group's "youngster" at 89, helps Willard Pennington enter the McDonald's for their session, at which the 99-year-old Pennington presides.

Photo: TODD SPOTH

World War II vets swap stories at McDonald's

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Sometimes the spy is late or can't make it, but that doesn't stop Willard Pennington, 99, from pushing his walker through the door of McDonald's every Saturday about 11 a.m.

Once seated, Pennington sometimes pulls out a silver naval whistle from the buttoned pocket of his plaid shirt and gives it a loud toot. Customers waiting in line jump at the shrill note, not knowing it heralds the weekly lunch gathering of World War II veterans.

"He's got lungs, doesn't he?" Allison observes as the whistle toots again and again. Pennington smiles broadly, and nobody tells him he's interrupting. After all, Pennington has difficulty hearing and decides who passes muster to join the group.

He started going to lunch with his neighbor, '50s Air Force vetTom Miller, 78, to talk about football and tell stories about the war. They later invited Miller's friend and colleague Bob Cordell, a 95-year-old retired spy, and Roy Dye, who had served under Gen. George Patton as an infantry captain and died in April at age 94.

Every day, hundreds of World War II veterans die nationwide. About 740 died each day last year, according to the U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs.

Sitting at a table near the door, these members of what TV newscaster Tom Brokaw dubbed "the Greatest Generation" say they've met every Saturday for some 15 years. They know the odds but still talk with excitement about planning for Pennington's 100th birthday in December.

Their usual McDonald's in west Houston is closed for renovations until this fall. The manager there would greet them every week and gave each a company hat they sometimes wear to formalize their chats over McDoubles and McNuggets.

For now, they make do at a branch in Briarforest where signs in the lobby limit each customer to 30 minutes in the restaurant. No one tells this group to leave when they've stayed longer, enticing Cordell, who arrived a little late, to tell his spy stories.

Ranks, responsibilities

Pennington eats his french fries and watches as Mawhinney and Allison encourage Cordell to share their favorite tales. Tell the reporter about Camp X, they say.

"It was a four-week spy course, and when we left we didn't know any more than … when we started," Cordell says of the once-secret training site near Lake Ontario in Canada. "We'd try to go into the town to see if we could get away with stealing. We always got caught."

When they tried to plant a fake bomb at the radio tower, they ended up in city jail.

Mawhinney brags for Cordell, noting that 27 of his 100 parachute jumps were behind enemy lines, and the spy once lived with an Italian family just 450 yards from a German base.

Cordell shows a photo of himself on the set of the 1946 movie "O.S.S.," which starred Alan Ladd and Geraldine Fitzgerald. He served as technical adviser to the film.

Allison wants to hear about the North African currency with gold on it that Cordell used to buy freedom for Allied pilots who crashed in Romania.

Mawhinney leans across the table to speak directly in Pennington's ear, asking him to talk about his time in the Air Force coordinating bomber runs that took off from England.

"Thirty-six B-24s flew out every day," Pennington says. The ground crew started prepping planes at 1 a.m. Pilots ate breakfast at 2:30 a.m. The bombers and fighters took off by 7 a.m. for an eight- or nine-hour flight.

"It took 5,000 of us to support that group of fliers," Pennington says.

Allison, a first lieutenant and aviation engineer, worked on the Pacific front, building and repairing airfields in the South Pacific. Mawhinney, among other assignments in the U.S. Army Air Force, organized troops returning home.

"Must've been a big job getting everybody out," Miller suggests.

"It was fairly complicated," Mawhinney admits with a smile.

McNuggets of wisdom

At lunch the next week, the gold chain of a pocket watch swings from the pocket of Mawhinney's plaid pants as he walks back to the group's table with an ice cream cone for Pennington.

"Makes me fat," Mawhinney says, putting a hand on his lean belly. Pointing to Pennington, he grins and says, "He was a toilet paper salesman."

"No, I wasn't!" Pennington retorts after having Mawhinney's jab repeated for him. After the war, he says, he worked as a regional manager for Scott Paper, selling mostly paper towels - not toilet paper.

Mawhinney and Allison became executives at Shell Oil and Exxon, respectively. Briefly, the table talk moves away from jokes and the Aggies or Astros.

"My life wouldn't have been complete without meeting him and him," Pennington says, pointing across the table. Mawhinney pauses briefly before he smiles and gestures to Pennington.

"He considers his week complete when he's had his half-dozen McNuggets," Mawhinney says.

Allison grins and Pennington eats the ice cream trapped at the bottom of his cone.